


Harrenhal's Honor

by SoHereWeAre



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother/Sister Incest, Canon Divergence - Tourney at Harrenhal, F/M, Forbidden Love, Harrenhal, Incest, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, Mild Sexual Content, Rough Kissing, Sibling Incest, Sneaking Around, Sneaking Out, Temptation, Tourney at Harrenhal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 11:52:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17980805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoHereWeAre/pseuds/SoHereWeAre
Summary: ASOIAF Rare Pair Week -Day 7 - Free DayAshara Dayne is indeed dishonored at the Harrenhal Tourney... but not by the man everyone believes him to be.





	Harrenhal's Honor

It was the wine, warm and sweet on her tongue and it was the softness in the dark grey eyes of the shy Stark that had made Ashara Dayne so bold. Eddard Stark could not even bring himself to ask her directly for a dance, sending his more charismatic and handsome brother Brandon to do the deed, but it was she who had waltzed over to him, denying her own brother another row in favor of the young man. He had held her respectfully, stiffly, his cheeks flustered as he made small talk that was as clumsy as his steps. They had chatted through the dance over how Prince Rhaegar had defeated Brandon and her own brother Arthur only hours before in the lists, and who they predicted would win in the final list on the morrow when Ser Barristan faces the prince. It was the simple earnestness in his actions that made her yearn for a unfamiliar touch; one that was not bold and confident but one that held wonderment. Indeed, his face held awe as she whispered in his ear, asking him to meet her in the far reaches of one of the slim abandoned Towers. Harrenhal had a few neglected, tall, forgotten facades amongst the vast structures of the fortress, and it was a perfect place for a private meet.

Perhaps Eddard was the answer. Maybe he could make her forget how much she longed to be with another. To be with someone she could never truly have. It was an ache that never left her.

Slipping away had been easier than she had expected, as the night's revelries and feasting had left most either in a drunken, drowsy state, or shuttered behind closed doors participating in celebratory rutting. No one cared about just another empty-headed wanton girl slipping off to engage in her own sought-after pleasures as she made her way out of the castle, her cloak wrapped tightly around her with the hood drawn up discreetly over her long dark hair.

The tower's stone steps were slightly treacherous, littered with broken pieces and cobwebs and only when she reached the top did she start to question herself. Were she to be caught it would compromise her honor, and Eddard's as well. The room chosen still contained a dusty dresser and mirror, and sparse bedding laid low on the floor, as if waiting on its occupant to return. Along the dark walls various forgotten sculptures stood as regal, silent witnesses to perhaps many a lady anxiously waiting on her erstwhile lover. The dual doors led out to a balcony overlooking immediate looming trees, a sporadic mess of branches so close they touched the railings. It was a full moonlit night providing enough light to manage and it was dark enough to hide shy faces and uncertain seductions.

Yet it was not Eddard who braved detection and dishonor for a furtive tryst with the the Lady of Starfall from Dorne.

The steps were too sure, too determined to be Eddard Stark, and as they echoed with increasing strength, Ashara steeled herself, shrouding herself with her cloak. The door creaked open and slammed against the wall, nearly off of its hinges to begin with. She wanted to weep with relief and joy at the sight before her but the swift reaction changed and she squared her shoulders as she flipped her hood down, tossing back her hair and jutting her chin defiantly even as her heart hammered.

"Arthur." 

For once her brother was not dressed in his Kingsguard armor and his sword Dawn was not strapped at this waist. He was clad in a simple dark tunic and breeches and dark leather boots, looking every inch a gentleman. His cloak was much like hers, the Dayne purple, as dark violet as his eyes as well as hers; but in the dark his eyes seemed more black and his wavy hair grazed his shoulders. 

"Eddard Stark sends his regrets that he is unable to keep your meeting, dear sister." He didn't wait for her reply but turned to slam the door shut with a dooming thud, barring it with the wooden plank propped up against the wall beside it. 

"Arthur, I - "

In a heartbeat he reached her, his long legs making determined strides. He always walked with purpose, self-assured in the widely known fact he was the most skilled swordsman in all of Westeros. Ashara had known from an early age that he was destined for greatness but she hadn't imagined it was merely to be the King's lapdog. She had cried when he joined the Kingsguard. She remembers the last night before he officially took on his duty, how sad he was to leave her but also so very, very proud of his status. Perhaps she hadn't truly meant to kiss him like she did; as a lover, as something more than what they should be, but it was no more a shock than it was for him to reciprocate in kind and caress her in a way that awakened something deep inside. Taking the Kingsguard meant celibacy and she was glad of it; if he could not touch her then at least he could not touch others. She had always loved him, adored him, but it was wrong to want him and it was wrong the way he introduced her to a yearning for more than his feather touches had provided. He awakened her and he left her, a small kiss on her temple and a whispered apology that he would never let it happen again.

There was no man more noted for honor than Ser Arthur Dayne. 

With his hands clasping down hard on her arms and shoving her up against the cool stone wall, she wondered if even the most honorable of men had a breaking point.

His face was so close she could smell the wine on his breath and see lines she never noticed before around his eyes.

"Arthur! How -"

"Strange thing, really. Did you not think I noticed the Stark boy making eyes at you all night from a distance? Did you not even consider I kept a watchful eye on the both of you? You would dishonor yourself in this way, risk being caught just for a tumble with a Northman?" He laughed, low and forced. "Why, Eddard Stark only made it halfway from the castle before he tucked tail and returned to his guest solar. I could not let you linger all through the night waiting on someone who had not the courage to meet you."

"You were spying!" She flung the accusation, partly stung by Eddard's lack of resolve, partly happy he changed his mind on seeing her. After all, Eddard was also a man of honor, and perhaps he did not want to compromise hers. On the morrow she would speak to him, or send him a small note of gratitude for the protection of her reputation. He had intended - he had wanted - but thought better of it. Now she was also seeing this would have been folly.

"Aye, I was. Obviously for good reason. -"

"We are not promised to others! What harm could have come of it? I was tired of all the flattery and flirting. Eddard Stark is a simple man but a good one -"

She meant to say more but he pulled her to him and shocked her into silence with a kiss; it was nothing like the sweet kisses they shared in Starfall, but he was familiar, he was home, he was a part of her. His hands released her arms only to cup her face. Over, over, and over, his lips took from hers and she willingly gave, her hands winding up through his soft hair. She may have designed to meet Eddard but it has always been Arthur she wanted. She loved him with every fibre of her being and even if they were denied the luxury of what the Targaryens practiced, she could never deny what she truly felt. Love, trust, passion, and fear coursed through her veins as Arthur abandoned her mouth only to lave kisses on her neck, pulling the cloak from her shoulders. She did the same for him with trembling fingers. Something like a fire crept inside of her and she pressed his head further into her neck.

"I wanted to win the lists today," he gasped against her throat, his hands dropping to cup her breasts, searing heat through her fabric. "I wanted to defeat them all. Crown you the Queen Of Love And Beauty as you deserve -"

"You would dare not -" she felt light-headed and gasped as his head jerked up, his violet eyes staring into hers, his mouth slightly opened and wet.

"I would dare many things. I thought I could survive, thought I could bear the thought of you marrying and lying in some man's bed. Then I see them dancing with you - Oberyn, Connington.. I see Barristan besotted by you, and then Eddard... you favor him, I can see it. Would he have made it to the steps I would have stopped him -"

"This is madness," she whispered as he bent forward, pressing his forhead to hers. "You took your vows for the Kingsguard. You have honor." Even as she spoke, her hands clutched at his tunic, pulling apart the buttons.

"I would rather have you." His deep, throaty confession melted her and her legs started to buckle beneath her. "I would not let a Northman take from me what is mine."

He caught her before she could sink to the floor, whisking her up into his arms before sinking them both down onto the makeshift bedding pallet. She was weakened, floating, wrought with the thrill of a forbidden passion and Eddard Stark was forgotten in a flurry of lust and release of pent-up longings. It was too much to bear yet not nearly enough as they bared themselves to each other; not slow or thoughtful but frantic with want and need. The pain at the loss of her maidenhead was fleeting; it was nothing compared to a pleasure she never knew existed, and perhaps never would again. Honor was nothing against this joy, this euphoria, this joining of bodies in an act of love.

She did not need a crown of blue flowers laid in her lap when she had Arthur in between her legs instead.

Afterwards, as they huddled together under their cloaks, naked and guilty and staring out into the balcony watching the leaves dance on the trees, she could feel his seed trickling down her thigh, wet and sticky with her maiden's blood. She wished they could stay like this, forever trapped in the tower alone, left to their own devices to love and be loved as they wanted. 

"I will come to you at Starfall when I am able," he whispered. "Palestone Sword tower has that secret room we discovered as children - "

She shivered as his breath tickled her neck and she wondered if she could have him once more before they parted. 

Arthur had her twice more before the dawn started to rise.

The parting was swift; Arthur left first - as it was not seemly for them to leave together - sweeping out of the room as quickly as he had arrived, leaving Ashara to reflect on what had just transpired over the last few hours. She did not bother to pull her cloak on. Her hair was tousled and in her shocked state she forgot to completely lace up the front of her bodice, but all of her thoughts were on her brother, her lover, her other half. He now completed her and she was now at a loss; one greater than any she has ever known. How could she cope?

She couldn't hold back the tears as she fled the abandoned tower, her cloak draped over her arm while she clumsily finished lacing up her gown.

Had she not been so distraught, she might have noticed a pair of pale blue eyes taking her in.


End file.
